Landon Ambrose

There is a magical moment just before a snow, where it seems like sound can’t travel more than a few feet. It’s on nights like that, that I did my best work. With the alarm disabled, it was nothing to get inside. The fires were all set precisely, the misleading evidence put in just the right spots. It was only because that damn cop was walking around outside, where he shouldn’t have been, that we got nabbed. The building burned down anyway. The job got done. And we took the fall.

When I got out eight years later, there was a gleaming new cathedral to good government where we killed the old one. I heard there’s abust of the Old Man in the lobby. Don’t know for sure. I never set foot inside.